


only red flames live here now

by she_dreams_in_colour



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Greek Mythology AU, Trojan War AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-26 11:28:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9894203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_dreams_in_colour/pseuds/she_dreams_in_colour
Summary: A royal elopement brings a thousand Greek warships seeking to conquer the Trojan shores. As the battle of gods and men wage on, a prince of Sparta finds himself wanting to ravage not only the city of Troy but a certain fair-haired maiden as well.





	1. Respice Finnem: Look to the End

The Aegen sea rippled endless, the cool, placid waters sparkling brilliantly amidst the blistering heat of the Mediterranean sun. Above, the midsummer skies were as clear and as boundless, with barely a cloud in sight. A lone hawk soared in the heavens, its falconine eyes beholding the distant horizon.

From the bow of the Grecian ship where he stood, Niklaus of Sparta could hardly tell where the sea ended and where the sky began. The same winds that blew the Spartan flag aflutter in the topmast tugged gently at his ash blond locks, yet the third son of King Mikael paid it no heed. He may have been a warrior by obligation, but Klaus was an artist by choice, and presently the artist in him was completely captivated by the infinite canvas of azure which reflected stunningly in his own blue eyes.

Lush lips curled into an amused smile as he thought about the irony of the situation. Blue was the colour that was said to represent peace, but he, with the hundred thousand other men in the thousand other Greek ships that now tread the Aegean waters, was sailing to war.

"Smiling all by ourselves now, are we?" a voice from behind him spoke. "I heard from the Athenians that it's a sign of madness."

Klaus smirked, not bothering to turn as he easily recognized the speaker's smug impression. "I was simply thinking about how fun it would be if I could throw you off the ship and watch you drown, Kol."

The young man grinned as he walked towards the balustrade to join his older brother. With his oak-coloured hair and soft brown eyes, Kol bore little semblance to Klaus, save for their sinewy bodies and the faint cleft in their chins. Their temperament was an entirely different matter; the brothers often butted heads because each was as bold, as brash and as stubborn as the other, but as with all brothers they secretly looked after each other.

"That would be fun indeed, but mother will kill you if father does not do it first." Kol replied impishly, looking onto the waters himself. "Besides, I am not the man prophesised to die in this war, am I?"

Niklaus' brow furrowed. "I didn't know that you believe in oracles now."

"Psh. Oracles are nothing but women driven mad by years of wanting to be touched by men. Most of them, anyway." Kol said. "But do admit, the oracle of Delphi is something entirely different."

Klaus did not answer, though his fingers gripped the wooden guardrails a little more tightly. Before they left for war, the king had sent his four sons to the temple of Delphi to seek the blessing of gods, as was custom for Spartan royalty; instead, the chief priestess told them of her vision, a message from the gods - if Niklaus went to war, he would not return home.

But Klaus was Klaus, so he paid the oracle no heed and left with the first ship that sailed to Troy.

"Did you see the look in her eyes when she foretold that you will not be back if you went to Troy?" Kol asked when his brother remained silent. "It was… otherworldly. I tell you, Niklaus, I do not believe in oracles but I cannot find it in myself to disregard what that priestess said."

"Do not be ridiculous, Kol. I have defied prophecy once, and I can do it again." Klaus retorted. "And frankly, I do not understand how you can believe any of those priestesses in Delphi, given how many of those supposedly pure women you have snuck into your chambers in the dead of the night."

The younger prince pursed his lips as he shrugged. It was known all over Sparta that when Niklaus was born a seer from Calchis had foretold that his life would be short, but with equal expanse of industry and determination he had defied the foreign oracle's prophecy and ever since refused to believe in them. It was equally known all over the kingdom that Kol was an inexhaustible flirt who dallied with any woman he fancied, and much to their king father's frustration, Kol did not care whether the women were commoners or royalties, and at times even priestesses.

"I do not look forward to your death, brother. I only wish that you be more careful." Kol said softly.

The older prince fell silent at his brother's words. Neither he nor Kol had ever been particularly expressive when it came to any emotion other than anger, and Klaus knew that it was the closest that his sharp-witted and even sharper-tongued brother was ever going to get to saying he cared about him. But it was enough.

"I have always been careful. Always one step ahead, remember?" Niklaus finally replied, giving his younger brother a small smile.

Kol nodded quietly, and Klaus guiltily turned to the blue sea if only to avoid the look of concern that was still too evident in his brother's eyes.

He tried to feign indifference, but the truth was that he felt the same uneasiness that Kol did about the priestess' prophecy. Niklaus did not believe in oracles, but he trusted his gut feel, and intuition told him that this war may be unlike the others that he had fought and won in the name of Sparta. The lone reason why he even came to the war was because if there was anything that the prince valued more than his life, it was his family.

Barely a month before, the Trojan prince Damon had abducted Elena, his eldest brother Elijah's bride, and Klaus had seen how his kind-hearted brother went through pain like he had never known before nor ever in his lifetime deserved. Now the Greeks were on their way to Troy to claim back the woman that rightfully belonged to their prince, and Niklaus, foretold to die or not, did not want to be anywhere else but by his brother's side. The five children of King Mikael were like fingers of a hand – when right was done to one, they extend a hand of friendship; but when wrong was done to one, they banded together to form a fist.(1)

Klaus' blue eyes narrowed grimly as he looked onto the horizon. The king's orders where clear: make Damon pay for his insolence, and make the entirety of Troy suffer for standing by their scoundrel prince when they could – should - have given Elena back. Klaus had every intention of standing by his brother and carrying out his father's commands.

And after that, oracles be damned, but he was going to ascertain that he would return, with everyone else, home.

-o-

In the tranquil silence of the quarter moon, Damon of Troy placed a soft kiss on his sleeping wife's forehead before gently getting up from their bed. The crown prince of Troy quietly made his way to the door, but found that he could not manage to leave the confines of the bedchamber without looking once more at the woman who carried in her womb his unborn son.

With her chestnut-brown hair falling softly upon her bare shoulders and the moonlight bathing her serene face, Elena of Sparta – no, Damon rectified himself; it's Elena of Troy now – was indeed the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. This woman had presently brought him into quite a predicament, but he doubted if anyone could accost him for proclaiming Aphrodite the fairest of the goddesses after the later had promised to make Elena fall in love with him.

Damon sighed as he turned the brass knobs to close the doors of his bedroom. Yes, he stole his wife from another man, but he could not care any less about what anyone else had to say so long as Elena was with him, in his bed, moaning his name and-

"I hope you're proud of yourself."

Damon looked up, immediately greeted by the sight of his younger brother Stefan standing outside his bedchamber. A scowl marred the younger man's usually calm face, muscular arms tightly folded across his broad chest.

This is what I get for wanting to drink wine this late at night. Damon groaned inwardly.

"Father's allies in the west have sent word of caution. A thousand warships, a hundred thousand men from all over Greece. In less than a full moon, King Mikael of Sparta will lead them to Troy, and his sons will be there to aid their brother, from whom you stole your wife." Stefan said, the disdain in his voice veiled only too thinly.

Damon rolled his eyes. Stefan was his lone brother, but more often than not he could not believe how dissimilar they were, and that was not to speak merely about appearance. Blue-eyed and raven-haired, Damon was of wiry build, lean but nonetheless elegantly strapped body allowing him to be agile and sharp. He followed his heart more than his head, trusting the gods of Olympus to steer him where they pleased. In contrast, Stefan had eyes of olive green and hair the color of wheat in summer; he was heftily built, strength and intellect his gifts from the gods. The younger prince believed in analytical thinking and apt preparedness, which to his older brother sometimes translated to being an annoying worrywart.

And that was precisely what Damon thought of him now.

"Why do you worry about Mikael and his sons, brother?" Damon bit out, underlining the last word. "You and I are enough to defeat them. Aphrodite will aid us, she is patron to me and mother to Alaric, who is kin to us."

Sefan looked at him sternly. "Do not get me wrong, brother. I am glad that you have the woman you love, and I consider Elena as my sister now. What concerns me is how you fail to think about your actions before you do them. You dragged Troy to hell with yourself when you abducted the betrothed of the man who treated you as a guest in his house!"

"Oh, Stefan, quit being your doomsaying self." The older prince dismissed. "If you think that you, I and Alaric are inadequate, then I'll wager that the Romans will take our side as well. Tyler will do anything for Caroline."

As if on cue, a blonde-haired woman suddenly appeared in the hallway, immediately seizing the arguing brothers' attention.

Her golden hair was gathered into a loose chignon adorned by a single jewelled clasp, with several loose tendrils gently framing her delicate face. She wore a chiton of pale blue, the hem of the soft fabric briefly swaying to and fro as her nimble feet halted from taking another step. Her eyes, the cerulean color of the Agean Sea during a rare cloudless day, widened nervously upon the sight of the two men.

"Speaking of Caroline." Damon said, smirking.

"What are you two doing here?" Caroline murmured anxiously. "Midnight has struck past!"

"I was merely telling our responsible brother here that the Greeks are coming to plunder Troy because he could not keep his hands away from places other than his -" Stefan took off, but suddenly stopped. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the young girl. "Should I not be the one to ask you that, Caroline? Why in Zeus' name are you awake at this hour?"

The blonde bit her lower lip uneasily. "Well, Stefan, I…"

Damon rolled his eyes again. Caroline, eight years his junior and six years Stefan's, had never been good at any kind of deception; in fact her efforts were pathetic at best. A princess of Troy, taken in as her uncle Giuseppe's ward after her parents died in the war that lost the kingdom of Thasos, she was reared to be sweet and docile like any other female royalty, and most of the time she was. But there was a light inside of her that seem to burn through her noble upbringing. She was a free spirit, eager and sprightly, fascinated with everything that the world had to offer.

"I think this is the part where I say 'speaking of Tyler'." Damon interjected.

Stefan glowered at his adoptive sister upon hearing her suitor's name.

"We were talking in the gardens," Caroline tried to explain. "We were so engrossed that we failed to take note of the time."

"Pray, Caroline, do tell what you were talking about." Damon goaded, in a poorly concealed effort to manipulate his virtuous younger brother's attention away from the topic of the Greeks.

Caroline smiled at them wistfully. "His home. Rome. Did you know that it was founded by a man who is said to have suckled from a she-wolf? Tyler says he will ask for father's permission to take me there soon."

"Tyler can ask for permission after I speak to him about his manners tomorrow." Stefan snapped coldly. "What was he thinking, keeping a woman to himself at such unholy hours! Now go to sleep, Caroline, before I get the good mind to tell father about this."

The blonde frowned but said nothing more, and the younger prince turned to his elder brother again. "Damon, we need to speak to father tomorrow. There is going to be a war, and if you want to have a throne to inherit, then please, you should begin caring about Troy more than you care about wine."

As Stefan turned to leave, Caroline looked at Damon uneasily. "He's wrong, isn't he? The Greeks… they will never conquer Troy… right, brother?"

Damon held his sister's gaze, intending to tell her not to worry, but realized that he could not. "Are you not friend to a priestess of Apollo, the one said to have the gift of prophecy?" he found himself asking her instead. "Does she tell you about the war?"

"Bonnie?" Caroline said. "She says strange things that I sadly do not understand. The priestesses say that they think Apollo truly speaks to her, but she fails to understand him and in turn fails to relay to us the god's message. They do not believe her oracles."

The heir to the throne of Troy nodded, satisfied with her answer. Apprehension still hung in his chest, no thanks to Stefan's harsh parting words, but for now, the situation seemed well enough. After all, Troy was city whose gates, in a thousand years, had never been felled.

He prayed to the gods that those gates would hold for another thousand.


	2. Detur Digniori: Let It be Given to the More Worthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He brought his hand up to touch her chin, but she recoiled from him.
> 
> The warrior smiled, amused. "Aren't you a feisty little thing."

They came in the silence of twilight, cloaked by the darkness of raven skies and shrouded by the treacherous fog that appeared over the sea that night. By daybreak, when the royal palace was awakened by the soldier who brought tidings of Greek ships being sighted, the invaders were a mere four hours from shore.

"Troy has never had fog during summer, not in the waters nor in land." Stefan noted as he glanced at his brother from across the intricately carved table where they sat down to discuss the war. Thankfully for Stefan, the gravity of the situation seemed to have finally sunk into Damon's head; when before he merely brushed aside concerns about the Greeks, that day he was vigilant, immediately instructing his men to bring the people of Troy to safety within the city's great walls.

"This is a doing of the gods, no doubt. It is impossible to favour one without earning the ire of the others." spoke a tall, sturdily-built man with sand-colored hair and eyes of saxe blue. Here was Alaric, the demigod, son of Aphrodite and the Trojan King Giuseppe's brother, Anchises.

"Of course." Damon answered ruefully. "Thankfully we have your mother, who will protect Troy."

Alaric shook his head. "Sadly, mother's works are of love, not of war. It is the goddess Athena who will bring us peril. She is second only to Ares in the ways of war, and my mother will never equal her in battle. We must seek to appease her."

"Oh please, let us not waste our time kissing a resentful goddess' ass." Damon retorted, flinching as he remembered Athena's anger when he declared Aphrodite fairest. "I am to blame for this war, but neither my guilt nor my kneeling before her will placate her, and it is insanity to believe otherwise."

"But Alaric's suggestion has merit." Stefan insisted. "The warrior Lynceus angered Athena when he killed one of her owls; Sardis was spared ruin only after the queen burned her best robe as an offering."

"Then who would you like to send to Apollo's temple to offer Athena her best robe, Elena or Caroline?" Damon replied irately, rising from his seat to point at the temple's location in the map splayed across the table; clearly it was beyond the walls that protected the city.

Stefan narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to go on your Spartan adventure."

"Enough!" Alaric exclaimed, setting himself between the brothers. "This is not the time for us to be divided..."

In the midst of the argument, none of the three men noticed that just outside the doorway leading to the room where they were in, Elena stood limply, having heard the entire conversation.

She had gone looking for Damon when she awoke without him by her side, but after hearing the men's discussion, she slunk away from the room and hurriedly headed back to her bed chambers. Immense guilt consumed her, knowing that she was the reason why Troy was in danger, but she tried to fight the guilt back with courage and determination as she proceeded to the wardrobe where she stored her garments.

She opened it and drew out a magnificent golden robe, adorned with countless precious jewels that shone brilliantly in her pale white hands. _If this is what it takes to save Troy_ , Elena thought as she hastily fashioned a makeshift sack from a couple of linen sheets and put in it the golden robe. She reached for a drab-colored cloak, preparing to sneak her way out of the palace.

"Elena?"

Elena turned, seeing her husband's sister looking at her quizzically. The brunette tried to conceal the linen sack she held, but it was too late.

"Father wants you to join us for breakfast…" Caroline said, eyeing Elena's cloaked form with uncertainty. She locked the doors of the bedchamber before sitting next to the woman who had become her best friend, whispering as quietly as she could. "What are you doing?"

Elena hesitated for a moment, but then looked at Caroline with fortitude in her eyes. "I must go to the temple of Apollo."

"What? But the Greeks are coming! The gates will be sealed soon!" Caroline told her anxiously.

Elena's expression was pained. "Troy is in danger because I left Sparta for your brother. I regret none of it, because I truly love him, but I cannot have the blood of blameless Trojans be spilt in my behalf."

She lifted part of the cloth that covered the package she held in her trembling hands, revealing the jewel-laden gold fabric. Caroline looked worriedly at Elena, her blue eyes asking silently.

"My best robe. I shall take it to the temple and offer it to Athena so her wrath may be diminished and the innocent might be saved." Elena said ever compassionately.

At those words, a wave of calmness washed over the dread that had filled Caroline's chest. She understood why Damon had fallen for this girl and did everything for them to be together- Elena had every right to be vain, but she was selfless; she had everything yet wanted only to be kind; she was weak, but she tried to be strong for the people she cared for.

How could the gods let any harm befall upon a person of such kindness?

"I cannot let you go beyond this hallway." Caroline declared. "For the guards will only stop you at the gates. Come, I will show you a passage that only I and Damon know; it's how we used to sneak out of the palace when he taught me how to ride horses. Let us go together to pray for Athena's mercy."

-o-

"Come on, Niklaus, we've been here for an hour. I'm bored, let's go have some fun."

A vein throbbed in Klaus' forehead as he summoned every inch of control in his body to stop himself from hitting his younger brother. Kol had been complaining endlessly of boredom for the last hour, and the short-tempered Klaus could only take so much. Then again, clobbering Kol might not be such a ludicrous idea, especially since it was his fault why they landed ashore earlier than all the others.

"If you had not threatened the soldiers to sail as fast as the waters allowed, then we would not be here waiting for everyone else, so shut it." Klaus huffed. He scolded himself inwardly for trusting that he could sleep while Kol was awake - look at what happened.

"I'm sorry, but my plan was actually to arrive early so I can start sacking Troy before everyone else." Kol informed him.

The vein in Klaus' forehead throbbed harder. "You think you can conquer Troy by yourself? I know you are young and you need to prove yourself in battle, but if you continue with this stupidity, this war may well be your last!"

Kol glowered, but Klaus ignored him. "Do not look at me like that, Kol. Go to your quarters and sleep or something. We will wait for the king before we move and that is final."

The younger prince rolled his eyes, but fully aware that there wasn't anything he could do against his older brother, he gave up and wordlessly headed for his tent. He secretly wished that he had sailed in his brother Finn's ship, so he would be stuck here with Finn instead of Klaus. At least Finn let Kol do anything he wanted, save for flirting with his beloved Sage.

As he trudged towards the encampment, Kol spied from the corner of his eye a structure quite some distance from the shore but as evenly detached from the gated Trojan city. He tried to recall the Trojan maps he had studied before sailing to war and recognized the outline of the marble sculpture atop the pillared building: it was that of Apollo, the god of the sun.

Kol glanced at Klaus, who had gone on to speak to a soldier. A mischievous smile crept unto his lips.

Looks like he was going to have his fun after all.

-o-

BAM!

Caroline's head flicked towards the direction of the hallway, the pillars of chamber quivering as the sound of something wooden and heavy being felled reverberated through out the temple. Furious screams and the clashing sound of swords launched into the air; her eyes widen with fear.

"The Greeks are here!" a voice bellowed from outside.

Caroline looked at the equally frightened Elena, who froze in her place, seemingly having second thoughts as to whether she should go on or run. Deciding quickly, the blonde yanked her sister-in-law's arm in an effort to lead her out of the temple, out of danger.

"No!" Elena refused, snapping out of her petrified state. "We're here now. We have to make the offering!"

The blonde saw the courage burning intensely in the brunette's eyes. She bit her lip, knowing that nothing could make Elena change her mind.

Caroline caved in. "Take the robe to the altar. I will get the torch so we can burn it."

Elena nodded, running towards the pyre atop the sacrificial altar while Caroline rushed for one of the torches at the left side of the chamber. She gripped the burning stake with both hands and scrambled back to the altar where Elena had begun prayer, climbing its stairs two steps at a time.

She was halfway through the altar's twelve steps when her foot caught the hem of her himation. She slipped, twisting her ankle, and at the next moment she was faltering all the way down. A cry of pain escaped her dry throat as she landed on the hard floor surface, the torch extinguished.

"Caroline!" Elena cried, rushing down to be by Caroline's side. She tried to help her sister-in-law get to her feet, but Caroline winced, the pain unbearable. Tears of pain mixed with those of frustration as she fell back down on the foor.

A warrior suddenly burst into the chamber, making Elena scream.

"Caroline!"

Caroline looked up, and from her tear-stained eyes she saw a blonde, blue-eyed man who had on the distinct claret habiliment of the Roman empire. Matt!

Caroline was relieved that aid had come, but suddenly noticed that Matt carried in his arms an unmoving, raven-haired girl wearing the white chiton held in reserve for the priestesses of Apollo.

"Why are you here? What happened?" Matt asked, alarmed, as he knelt to see the broken ankle that Caroline nursed.

"What happened to Bonnie?" Caroline ignored Matt's question.

Matt's turned to Elena, who looked at him remorsefully "It's my fault. I wanted to present an offering to Athena to ask for her mercy. Caroline hurt herself trying to help me."

A tortured cry filled the air, and Matt eyed the hallway forebodingly before carefully heaving Bonnie's limp body unto his right shoulder to free his hands, and then trying to help Caroline up. "We have to get out of here. Can you get on your feet?"

Caroline shook her head helplessly. "Where is Tyler?"

"Tyler isn't here yet. We were at Pergamos negotiating for his father when he learned that the Greeks were near. He sent me and some other soldiers to be of assistance to your brothers. We were helping the Trojan soldiers remove the priestesses when the attack came, and this one fainted."

"She must be having visions. Bonnie looses consciousness whenever she has visions," Caroline said. With great sense of urgency, she took Elena's hand and gave it to Matt. "You must bring Bonnie back to the city. Take Elena with you."

"No!" Matt replied almost the same time Elena objected. "You are hurt! I cannot leave you here!"

"You can't bring all three of us!" Caroline argued. "I will only slow you down. Then none of us will make it. You must save Elena. We cannot allow the Greeks to take her!"

Matt heard clanking armors and sounds of slashing flesh just beyond the chamber entrance, and for a split second he froze in reluctance; but then with anguish in his face he stood up to pull Elena towards him. The Roman warrior looked one final time at the girl his best friend loved, swearing to go back for her once Elena and Bonnie were safe, before bolting out of the chamber.

Caroline inhaled sharply, bracing herself for whatever was to come.

A Trojan soldier appeared on the doorway, battling a yet seen opponent from the other side. The Trojan fought bravely, swinging his sword with all his might, but the enemy was stronger, faster. It took only a moment for the unseen warrior to bring down his sword and pierce through the Trojan's chest, eliciting a sickening squelch that made the man choke and fall unto the floor face first. There was complete silence as blood from the fallen man's chest oozed on the cold marble surface.

Caroline trembled as a Spartan warrior entered the chamber, holding in his hands the sword that took the Trojan soldier's life, dripping menacingly with blood.

Gorgeous hazel eyes swept the room, resting upon the sight of the disheveled but no less beautiful girl alone on the floor. The Spartan put his sword back on the gilded sheath that hung in his waist before slowly making his way towards Caroline. Once in front of her, he got down on one knee to meet her fearful blue eyes.

He brought his hand up to touch her chin, but she recoiled from him.

The warrior smiled, amused. "Aren't you a feisty little thing."

-o-

Anger seethed through the trail that Niklaus blazed as he made his way further into Apollo's temple, prepared to slay anyone who dared block his way. His eyes searched relentlessly for any sign of his idiot brother Kol - he could only pray that the brat did not do anything even more stupid than casting an attack at Trojan ground with only a dozen of his men.

"How could you not notice that your brother is missing? Such a simple task, only to wait for us to land, and still you fail!" A man behind Klaus said irately, anger all too evident on his face. His hair was almost entirely silver, but with his hardened body and intense cobalt eyes, no one would dare call him an old man. It was Mikael himself, the powerful King of Sparta.

Klaus wanted to answer in defense, but a hand held on his arm and gentle russet eyes dissuaded him from doing so. "Let us not blame Klaus, Father. Kol's doings are his own, and he alone is responsible for them." The tall, powerfully-built warrior calmly answered for Klaus. Here was Elijah, crown prince of Sparta, the man whose bride Damon of Troy stole.

Klaus focused back on his search for Kol, entering yet another chamber littered with fallen weaponry and strewn with bodies of slain soldiers, Greeks and Trojans alike. This one though, unlike all the others, finally allowed him the sight of his brother, alive and unharmed.

"Niklaus!" Kol called out, pleasantly surprised. "And Father. And Elijah!"

Klaus gritted his teeth, wanting to wring Kol's neck himself for having the grit to be chirpy like that right after directly disobeying his orders. However, he paused when he saw that Kol carried in his arms a woman.

She reminded Klaus of their sister Rebekah, with hair of spun gold and lips like carnations. In her eyes, however, was none of the cunning and confident sense of entitlement that King Mikael's only daughter had. Instead there was fear, uncertainty and indignation melting together; for a moment, Klaus held her gaze in his, blue sinking into blue.

The girl turned away to look at Kol disdainfully, fidgeting in his grasp every so often, clearly indicating that she did not appreciate the way Kol had captured her in his arms. The young Spartan prince on the other hand did not seem to care about his captive's anger at all.

"Kol…" Elijah uttered, at a loss for words as he looked at his brother and then at the woman he brought with him. The butterfly-shaped clasp which fought to hold on to her tousled hair seemed to seize his attention.

"Isn't she stunning? She is my prize, for taking the temple of Apollo from the Trojans with only twelve of my men. I lost eight of them, but who cares." Kol proclaimed cheerfully. The woman in his arms squirmed again, visibly displeased at being declared a prize, but Kol held her tight.

King Mikael stormed furiously at his youngest son. "Prize, you say? No Kol, you do not get a prize for acting so foolishly! Did I not instruct you before we left that no move shall be made without my permission? What if harm had fallen upon you?"

Kol looked heartbrokenly at Elijah's direction, seemingly asking why his father couldn't simply be pleased that he had achieved to take the temple of Apollo, but his eyes did not even meet his brother's. Elijah's gaze was still fixated on the blonde maiden.

The king motioned for one of the soldiers to come. He drew the man's sword and handed it to his fair-haired son. Klaus' lips parted in confusion, and Mikael pointed towards at Caroline. "Kill her. She is not a prize. She does not prove your brother's strength, only his stupidity."

Caroline froze, her frail hands, which formerly fisted her captor, now holding on tightly unto his chest.

"No."

Klaus, Kol and Mikael concurrently turned to the source of the sudden objection.

"Give her to me, Father." Elijah said firmly, with resolve that neither Klaus nor Kol had ever seen their kindhearted elder brother show. "I am the man who the Trojans denied of a bride, and before I take back the woman they stole, I shall take one of their own for myself."

Mikael looked at his eldest son, surprised but satisfied at the fire that he saw in Elijah's eyes. He often thought of Elijah as too moral to be the leader that Mikael currently was, with solid control of power and never hesitant to use force to impose his supremacy. It seemed as though his heir had finally learned that dominance could be asserted only through ruthlessness.

He smiled, chest swelling with paternal pride. "Elijah, my son. No other man in this room is more worthy of a prize. As the king of Sparta, I award to you this woman. Do to her as you wish."


	3. Alere Flammam: To Feed the Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She inhaled deeply before slowly turning to the fair-haired Spartan.
> 
> Klaus was surprised to feel her lips brush against his jaw. He suddenly found himself holding still while the newfound proximity allowed him to take in the intoxicating scent that clung to her supple skin - she smelled of lavender and lilac and sunshine and sea, sending something dark and deep and feral roaring furiously in his chest. A thousand thoughts swam in his head, none of them coherent.
> 
> The prince was lost in a blazing flurry that consumed his mind until he felt the Trojan girl mouth three words softly against his skin.
> 
> "Go to hell."

To say that the ride back to the Greek encampment was awkward is an understatement.

In front of Klaus rode King Mikael, still zealously engaged in a livid monologue about what failures his two youngest sons were. To Klaus' left, Elijah rode with a deadpan expression, his strong arms firmly holding up the reins of his steed to secure his newly-awarded prize. To his right, Kol rode sullenly, like a child who had been stripped of his toy.

_Then again,_ Klaus thought, _isn't that exactly what happened?_

Arriving at the encampment, the prince headed straight for his tent. Given an irate father, a suddenly self-indulgent older brother and a brooding younger brother, solitude was his companion of choice.

"Brother."

He turned to see Elijah before him, face stoic as ever but his brown eyes betraying turmoil within.

"I need to ask of you a favor."

-o-

Caroline sat still inside the canvas her captors had lodged her into, dumbfounded by her surroundings. Given the Spartans' ruthless reputation in war, she had not expected to be settled into… well, this.

All around her were lavish draperies, plush cushions and exquisitely carved furnishings. The bed she sat on was large enough to accommodate three people, the floor almost entirely covered by rich fur rugs, and at the far end of the tent was what appeared to be an ivory bath.

She shook her head vigorously in an effort to snap herself out of the astonishment. Admiring the enemy's encampment was the last thing she needed to be doing – instead, she willed herself to focus on trying to find a way to escape.

The blonde stood up and limped towards a far corner of the room where she concealed herself behind a row of thick, intricately draped fabrics. She surmised that she could create a distraction by making the Spartans think that she had somehow escaped; that ought to create at least some disorder. Meanwhile, she would wait in the tent until nightfall, when it would be dark and much easier to flee.

As she stood there quietly, Caroline recalled the names she had heard during her capture and realized why they were vaguely familiar. Elena had mentioned them before, during the few times when she told Caroline of her life in Sparta. Elijah was the name of the man Elena was betrothed to before she ran away with Damon, and was it not the name of the man she was awarded to? Kol must have been the prince who had captured her first; Elena said he was brash and wanton. The third man, Klaus…

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard someone enter the tent.

She held her breath as the footsteps approached, her heart pounding faster by the second. Between the dim sounds made by sandaled feet meeting with the woolen rug, she could hear the intruder muttering soft curses as he went around the room, presumably in search of her. The sounds grew louder as they drew nearer and Caroline froze altogether when she felt the figure walk in front of the draperies where she hid.

Desperate seconds passed. The Trojan squeezed her eyes shut, praying to Apollo for deliverance–

A hand suddenly gripped her arm and yanked her out of her hiding place, eliciting a cry of pain from Caroline as she stumbled across the floor on her injured foot.

Niklaus paused, momentarily taken aback when the woman he dragged from behind the draperies fell onto the floor. Her pale hands rushed to nurse her ankle, and the fair-haired prince swore at himself inwardly for completely forgetting that Elijah's prize had hurt her foot in some way at the temple.

Really, he should be handling his brother's property more carefully.

He sighed wearily as he lifted the girl into his arms and carried her back to the bed before she could protest. His eyes trailed at her as he laid her down the bed, and he noted that despite the glaringly obvious pain of her injury, she still had the tenacity to try to appear incensed.

"Hell." Klaus muttered guiltily under his breath as he reached for a cotton cloth on the table near the bed. After soaking it in warm water from one of the earthen jugs close by, the Spartan proceeded to get down on a knee, and his captive was startled when he began gingerly soothing her foot with the tepid compress in a wordlessly apologetic effort to ease her pain.

He felt her shiver where her supple skin met his lithe fingers, sending an oddly contrasting chill up to his hands. A slight frown formed on his face as she tried to draw her foot back – stubborn girl - yet he held it firmly with controlled strength, mindful to avoid hurting her again.

"I apologize for the inhospitality, love." He spoke. "But really, don't try to pull tricks like that again."

The reprimand earned him a scowl.

"Don't pout, love, it's not going to get you anywhere." Niklaus continued, doing his best to be patient. "If it's any consolation, you are in the best place you could be. I don't know what Elijah will do with you once he gets Elena back, but I am certain that he will at least ensure that you're provided for, unlike Kol who throws his toys away after he's done with them."

Blue eyes widened indignantly at the Spartan's implication. "How dare you-" Caroline uttered before she could stop herself.

Klaus paused his ministrations to look up at her in amusement. "So you speak after all."

"Only to damn your crudeness. How can you speak of such things?" she said, her cheeks flushing red in resentment. "You have no right to objectify me like some sort of twisted entertainment for you Greeks."

"Look around you, love. You are in my brother's tent because he asked for you, and to him you were given. You are his entertainment." Klaus informed her calmly.

"I am in this tent because you and your people have no respect for the temple of a god. I am not a toy, not a concubine, and the lot of you Greeks can all drown in centaur piss." Caroline replied heatedly.

The Spartan hardly took offense. "You are neither a concubine nor a toy, I'll give you that. Elijah has not wed, thanks to your pilfering prince, and clearly he sees you as more than a plaything or he would not have asked me to look after you while he speaks to the king about tomorrow's march to Troy."

"March to Troy..."

"Yes, love. Tomorrow we will wage war on Troy."

Silence hung heavily in the air. Caroline wanted to tell him that the Greeks would never succeed, that the gates would not fall for her brothers would protect it, that the gods would not allow Troy to be taken – but she seemed to choke on the words even before she could say them.

Klaus watched the blonde struggle to keep her staunch expression, when in her eyes there was nothing written but fear.

Something tugged at his chest.

This girl in front of him knew nothing about the cruelties of war that he had grown callously used to. She was young, innocent and beautiful, and in a perfect world she would have had a promising future – but all that was to change because he was here.

In a few days, the kind world she knew would be torn apart. She would lose herself in the horror of death and destruction, drown in her own tears as the Greeks spilled the blood of her countrymen and razed her home to the ground. The harshness of war, delivered by Klaus' own hands, would take away everything she ever held dear until she became but a hollow shell, existing but never truly living. Hell, her death began today when his so-called moral brother seized her from the sanctuary of her god's temple because he wanted her to warm his bed.

And all this for what purpose? None. She was merely collateral damage.

Klaus hated himself at that moment.

"What is your name?" he found himself asking her softly.

Caroline looked reluctantly at her captor. She knew better than to tell him her name... yet there was something in his blue eyes that told her to trust him, no matter how wrong it seemed.

"Caroline." she answered just as quietly. "My name is Caroline."

Klaus stood up, bringing his face as close as he dared to hers before whispering in her ear. "Listen to me, Caroline of Troy. Your days as a priestess are over. You belong to my brother now, and it would serve you best to please him. But trust me, love, your life is far from over, and there is still so much that you can make out of it after my brother lets you go."

Sparks ran up Caroline's spine as she felt Klaus' heated breath. Was this really the fate that awaited her? Was she raised by the King of Troy and protected by his sons only to be taken by a man who scorned her brother?

She inhaled deeply before slowly turning to the fair-haired Spartan.

Klaus was surprised to feel her lips brush against his jaw. He suddenly found himself holding still while the newfound proximity allowed him to take in the intoxicating scent that clung to her supple skin - she smelled of lavender and lilac and sunshine and sea, sending something dark and deep and feral roaring furiously in his chest. A thousand thoughts swam in his head, none of them coherent.

The prince was lost in a blazing flurry that consumed his mind until he felt the Trojan girl mouth three words softly against his skin.

"Go to hell."

-o-

"Did you find her?"

Damon's face turned pallid in anger and worry as Alaric shook his head. After Matt brought Elena and Bonnie back to the city and said that Caroline had been left behind in the temple with an injury, the demigod himself rode forth to try to save her, but there was not a single living soul in Apollo's temple when he and his men arrived.

Distraught, Stefan paced the room restlessly. "Matt said he left her there - where could she be then?"

"Perhaps captured. The gods forbid, dead. Only the Fates know." Alaric said grimly.

"She is not dead." a voice interrupted.

A woman entered the royal chamber, raven-haired and olive-skinned, with russet eyes that though dark in shade were piercing as a Trojan sword. Her face was stern with certainty that could have only been ethereal in origin. The priestess whom Apollo had gifted of prophecy, Bonnie.

"She is alive – barely safe, but alive." Bonnie said. "Yet there are more pressing matters at hand."

Stefan was enraged. "There is nothing more important than finding my sister! Tell me where Caroline is. If the Greeks lay a single finger on her, I swear -"

"Calm yourself, Stefan. We cannot allow our emotions overwhelm us." Alaric pleaded, holding the Trojan prince back. "What is it that you deem more pressing a matter than Caroline, priestess?"

Bonnie looked at the men solemnly. "The Greeks will push to the city tomorrow. You must prepare, for blood will flow like water from a stream in the days to come, and a man from your ranks will make his way to the Elysium if you do not protect him."

Strained silence followed the priestess' words, and Damon looked at Stefan tensely. Troy had many brave warriors, but only few were of the royal rank, even if they counted Elena's younger brother Jeremy and the Roman prince Tyler and his legatus Matt.

The man foretold to die could easily be one of the brothers.

-o-

Caroline awoke with an inexplicable feeling twisting in her chest. She could not remember when she had fallen asleep or what had happened to Klaus, who was the last person she remembered seeing, but somehow, in her mind it barely mattered. As she sat up languidly, her eyes made out a masculine form seated on the divan opposite the bed.

The man stood up and walked towards Caroline when he saw that she was awake. He sat on the edge of the bed, barely inches from her, and smiled at her kindly as his brown eyes met her blue orbs.

"Hello, Caroline. I am Elijah of Sparta."

Caroline held his gaze as she nodded slowly. Here was the man who had asked his father to give her to him for the taking, but vaguely she wondered why she felt not even an ounce of fear for him, even when he raised his hand to touch her. It was as if she completely accepted that her fate had been forged, and resistance was futile.

She felt his warm hand slowly trail from her neck, his fingers soon running through her hair. Caroline remained seated quietly, and when his hand stopped, the Spartan gently removed the emerald clasp nestled in her locks, holding it briefly in his hands as if to cherish it before he showed it to her.

"Where is it from?" Elijah asked her softly.

She knew that lying was of no use. "Elena gave it to me when she arrived at Troy."

"You met her then?"

"Yes."

"How is she?"

"Well. Troy is happy to have her."

"Did she tell you anything about Sparta?"

Caroline cast her eyes down. "Only that she is sorry to have hurt… you."

"I see." Elijah said. He smiled at her faintly, but the blonde could see the hurt in his eyes. "When I first received Damon as a guest in my home, he told me that he had a sister. He said that she had blue eyes and fair hair, and that he loved her dearly."

"Is it that why I am here?" Caroline asked. "Is taking me your revenge against my brother?"

The prince shook his head, his eyes softening. "Please understand. If I had not asked for you in the guise of keeping you as a prize, he would have had Niklaus kill you. I could never bring myself to take a woman against her will."

"Then help me escape." Caroline pleaded, pulling at the sleeve of Elijah's robe. "Klaus said that you will march to Troy tomorrow. I have to be with my brothers. I have to be with my people."

Elijah's expression was pained. "I am deeply sorry, but I cannot let you go."

Caroline's head snapped up, dread written all over her face. "Why?"

The prince looked away guiltily. "A thousand men are with me here, fathers and brothers and sons, all of them willing to lose their lives to a cause not even theirs. I do not wish for innocent blood to spilled on my behalf – I only want to have back the woman I love. Tomorrow I will put forward a proposition to Damon: your life for Elena's."

A gasp escaped the Trojan princess's lips.

"I am sorry that I have to resort to using you." Elijah continued, filled with remorse. "I swear to the gods that wish you no harm, and that is why I did not reveal to my family who you really are. They think you are a priestess of Apollo, as Kol found you in the temple. "

"I do not care what they think. Don't do this to my brother." Caroline implored. "I know that he caused you pain, but he did it only because he truly loves Elena, and Elena loves him as well. Take me in her stead. I pledge to you my life – I will do anything you ask of me."

Elijah gazed at her sadly, lightly guiding her hand away from his sleeve. "I am sorry Caroline. If my heart could feel for anyone other than Elena, I would not be here bringing suffering to the innocent. But I need her, and this is what I must do to get her back."


End file.
